


Even torture cannot stop Theon Greyjoy from antagonising Jon Snow

by kitkatkaylie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Healing, Jon Snow Knows Nothing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Torture, Satin is a mother hen, Theon Greyjoy is a Little Shit, Theon at the Wall, There is one braincell between the three of them and it belongs to Satin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28393689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: It made it so much easier, to stay as Theon, when there was a living reminder of Theon’s memories such as Jon Snow before him. Reek struggled to come up when there was a constant reminder of Theon before him.
Relationships: Satin Flowers/Jon Snow, Satin Flowers/Theon Greyjoy, Satin Flowers/Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Even torture cannot stop Theon Greyjoy from antagonising Jon Snow

It seemed that there were some constants still in the world and Jon Snow pouting was one of them. 

It was reassuring in a way, that it could be the end of the world and the bastard would still pout the same way he had as a boy. Reassuring that the bloody bastard could literally die and come back, that Theon could undergo torture and lose his identity and then regain it; and that Jon Snow would still be there pouting at the world.

It made it so much easier, to stay as Theon, when there was a living reminder of Theon’s memories before him. Reek struggled to come up when there was a constant reminder of Theon before him.

He liked to think that his presence helped Jon as well, he seemed more grounded now than he had when Theon had arrived.

“Oi, Snow.” Theon called with the ghost of his old smile on his face, “You look a little dead on your feet there.”

The joke was bad. So very bad, but the flash of annoyance on Jon’s face made it worth having such a bad joke leave his lips.

“That joke wasn’t funny the first time you made it Greyjoy, and it certainly isn’t funny now.” Jon said with the most unimpressed expression Theon had ever seen on someone other than Catelyn Stark.

“Well I found it humorous.” Theon lifted his nose in the air, “And what I find humorous is what is most important.”

“Sure it is Greyjoy. Sure it is.” Jon’s lips twisted into a wry smile. 

Inwardly Theon cheered at the smile upon Snow’s dour face, he wanted to celebrate removing that sour expression, but to do so would likely incite violence, or worse, a discussion about emotions.

“You are just jealous of my stunning good looks and impeccable sense of humour.” Theon said instead, barely managing to keep a straight face as he did so.

“Sure.” Jon rolled his eyes, “I hear that women love white hair and missing teeth, why, you and Maester Aemon are in competition for the most handsome men on the Wall award.”

Well that was just rude. Sure his dashing good looks were mostly gone, but there were men on the Wall far more hideous than he. Men with far more hideous personalities as well. 

Some of his indignation must have shown on his face for Jon’s eyes softened, “I’m joking Greyjoy. You aren’t terrible looking, even if you are the most irritating man in the whole of Westeros.”

Theon threw back his head and laughed, pushing down the spark of gratitude to Jon for his reassurances, “If you say so Snow.”

“I do say so.” Jon nodded his head, “And as Lord Commander you should always listen to me.”

Theon reached out and ruffled Jon’s silver streaked curls, “I always knew power would go to your pretty little head. Shame it meant you nearly lost it.”

Jon pushed him away, “Fuck off Theon. Go bother someone else.”

For once, Theon did as he was instructed, for despite popular opinion, he did know when to stop pushing Jon’s buttons. Besides he had achieved what he wanted, Jon looked a little more alive and happy, and Reek was buried deep enough that he should not try and rise again for near a week. 

He just had to go and collect his winnings from Satin, for Jon’s steward had bet Theon that he could not make Jon smile.

* * *

Satin was, in Theon’s opinion, one of the best people on the Wall, and one whose presence he truly did not understand.

He didn’t ask Satin why he had been sent to the Wall though, that would not be kind or tactful, and, despite popular opinion, Theon did have some tact.

It might not often make an appearance, but it was there and he did use it on a rare occasion.

“Your hair needs a cut again, Greyjoy. You’re starting to look like one of the Free Folk crones again.” Satin said, with none of the tact that Theon showed him whatsoever.

It was one of the reasons that Theon was finding himself more than half in love with the bastard from the Reach. 

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to cut it for me.” Theon grinned lazily, “Seeing as I’m sure Snow would just shave me bald and be done with it.”

Satin made the most offended sound, “The  _ Lord Commander _ has more important things to do than shave your head.” A sly smile lit up his face, “Of course, that does not mean he would not enjoy doing such a thing. Perhaps he might even be able to find time in his schedule to do so.”

Theon pouted, an expression he had to make sure that Snow never saw if he ever wanted a moment of peace again. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“I might.” Satin allowed, “If you do not help me take these linens up to the Lord Commander’s chambers, and then submit to me shearing your scruffy hair.”

Theon took the linens that Satin held out to him, it was hardly a hardship to offer help to one he called a friend. Even if technically Theon was a guest of the Night’s Watch rather than a brother - and then it was only because Asha had made him promise not to take the vows.

Theon refused to break another promise to Asha, not after she had already sacrificed so much to keep him safe and alive.

He followed Satin up and up the stairs that led to Jon’s chambers, stairs that seemed to go on forever with Theon’s damaged legs and missing toes. They were stairs he had to climb though, ones he climbed every day to the small chamber that was his own, one just off of Jon’s own, one that he had the sneaking suspicion was supposed to be Satin’s chamber. Not that it had looked lived in before he arrived, however. Not when Satin’s clothes were hung on the pegs in Jon’s chamber, and the creams and tinctures he procured from the Free Folk and people of Moles Town sat upon the dresser alongside Jon’s hair brush and brush for Ghost.

The two weren’t subtle about sharing a bed at all, or at least, not around Theon.

Then again, who would ever believe Theon if he told anyone? He was more than half mad, his mind ruined along with his body by the Bastard of Bolton, or that was what almost everyone believed about him anyway. Even Asha.

“Put the linens on the table.” Satin ordered absently, his attention taken by the half eaten breakfast that still sat upon the desk, “That bloody man, he’s going to keel over one day faint from hunger and I shall not be worried at all.”

Theon could not help the small snort that escaped his mouth at Satin’s annoyed mutter, the day Satin did not worry about Jon Snow was the day that Theon’s father told him he loved him.

“And Ghost might juggle.” He said instead, because he knew that saying what he truly thought would just make Satin’s eyes do that crinkly thing they did when he was sad.

“You might be right there,” Satin reached out and brushed a gentle finger down Theon’s cheek, “But you still need your hair to be cut, so sit down and hold still.”

Satin had a comfortingly brusque manner, one that sparked no memories of Ramsay despite the knife he was holding and how close he was to Theon. Satin was probably the only person who could get so close to Theon with a blade and not cause him to panic, if Theon had a moment of rare honesty with himself.

“You know, the Lord Commander is fond of you, and from the sound of it has been since you were both boys.” Satin said off handedly, as he cut the locks of hair closest to Theon’s face, “He just won’t admit it because he thinks that you will make fun of him for it.”

Make fun of him? Theon? For having emotions? It was- not an unreasonable assumption actually. Theon did enjoy getting a ride out of Snow when he could, always had done really.

He didn’t think he would have mocked Jon about feelings for him though. He didn’t think he could have been quite that cruel. 

Theon went quiet as the thoughts of Jon Snow swirled around his head, he hadn’t really thought about Robb’s pouty brother in such a way before, but it wasn’t an unappealing image at all. Quite the contrary in fact. 

“Huh.” He finally said, just as Satin finished the last of his haircut.

Theon had thought of Satin in such a way before, and he knew he had a fondness developing for the man who was one of the few who interacted with him; but he was starting to realise that maybe he had the same fondness developing for Jon Snow as well. 

And Theon had never really been one for patience.

Slowly, carefully, cataloging every move so that Satin had time to reject him if he wished, Theon reached up to press a kiss to Satin’s soft lips.

It was a move he had dreamt of for quite some time, and the first kiss he had had and enjoyed since Kyra. 

And even that kiss was incomparable to the tender way that Satin kissed him back, mindful of the still healing wounds and scars that littered Theon’s body as he wrapped his arms around him.

The embrace made Reek whimper and panic, the feeling of enclosure, but Theon soon stamped that down. He was going to enjoy the kiss without Reek ruining it, even if it killed him.

The clatter of metal hitting stone had them springing apart, and turning to a gaping Jon in the doorway.

“Wha- What?” He stammered, looking between the two of them with a strange combination of shock and longing and jealousy. 

There was really only one way to answer that, or at least it seemed so in Theon’s mind.

“Stop standing there like a ninny, Snow.” Theon said with a hint of the easy confidence he had once had, “Come and join us.”

And for once, Jon Snow did exactly as Theon Greyjoy bid. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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